Cool Steel
by craziechic
Summary: Hermione's life is falling apart at the seams. Her relationship with her parents is poor, her friends are emotionally distant, and everything seems to only get worse. When the stress finally becomes too much she turns to a dangerous method of coping. WARNING: rated for EXPLICIT self-harm. If you don't like it don't read.
1. And So It Begins

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story. All of the characters belong to JKR.

Author's Note: I posted this story a few years ago and decided to revamp/edit it and repost. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

Once upon a time Hermione Granger had been happy, really and truly happy, but not any longer. The end of her 5th year at Hogwarts had seen the war they all dreaded looming ever closer. With the rise of violence in their world and the events at the Ministry of Magic, the Minister could no longer deny the continued existence of Lord Voldemort. With fears of her own safety as well as that of her friends plaguing her, Hermione had hoped that her summer in the muggle word would allow her some small bit of relief, but it was not to be so.

The first week she spent at home was restful to an extent, but there seemed to be a strain between her and her parents. Exactly seven days after Hermione returned home all hell broke loose in the Granger household. On that dreadful morning Hermione was called down to her parents study only to find them sitting solemnly on the couch. Hermione caught a glimpse of the _Daily Profit_, before her father stuffed it away.

Her parents quickly explained to her they had been getting the _Profit_ since the beginning of her fifth year when she had left a copy at home. They had been trying to keep up with the magical world so they could stay connected to their daughter, but what they had read disturbed them greatly. That morning's paper had officially declared the return of Lord Voldemort and explained the events which occurred at the Ministry, including Hermione's involvement. This announcement turned out to be the deciding factor in a long decision the Granger's had been debating on.

"Hermione, you won't be returning to that school next semester," Mr. Granger firmly stated, and with that he unleashed a fury. At first Hermione attempted to be reasonable and explain all the reasons why she _must_ return. Unfortunately, the Grangers refused to give in regardless of the arguments Hermione presented. The argument rapidly turned into a screaming match, in which Hermione repeatedly told her parents that she would most definitely be returning to school and there was nothing they could do to stop her. The fight was long and vicious and continued for over an hour until finally Hermione stormed out of the house. She did not return until well after midnight.

The rest of Hermione's summer was spent in much the same way. She tried to spend as much time away from her childhood home as possible but when she was present her parents continued to fight with her. Each day's fight getting worse and worse, as the weeks went on. The hardest part for Hermione was that by the end of her first month home these weren't simple arguments anymore, but were rather knock down drag out fights that ended in cruel words and hurt feelings. By the time Hermione was to return to school she was a slip of the girl she had been. The continual fighting had left her depressed, exhausted, and ill, yet her parents didn't seem to notice.

On the morning that Hermione was to return to school her parents refused to take her to the train station. Knowing what their opinion had been all summer Hermione had chosen to reserve a taxi to pick her up, but while she waited her parents started in on her again. By the time the cab arrived, the argument had yet again degenerated into a screaming fit and Hermione left without so much as a goodbye to her parents.

And so Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts started. Hermione's feelings were so clouded by hurt, betrayal, self-loathing, and a low self-confidence that she wasn't sure how she would make it through a year. However, she was determined not to worry her friends with her problems when they had so many of their own. So as Hermione climbed aboard the Hogwarts express she plastered a fake smile on her face and pretended that everything was fine.

The school year started and continued like that, with Hermione pretending to be happy when she was around others, and keeping her grades up. No one ever questioned that Hermione might not be telling the truth, or guessed at the inner turmoil swirling in her mind. Everyday it got harder and harder for Hermione to keep up facade, as her problems wore away at her. She had no contact with her family and her friends seemed to care less about her every day. She tried so hard to be ok and not give in to her emotions until the day came that she couldn't fight it anymore.

* * *

The day she finally gave up had started fairly normal, with Hermione getting up at a ridiculously early hour; not that it was her fault really though, insomnia tends to do that to a person. After a night full of tossing, turning and generally not sleeping, Hermione decided that since the sun was rising she might as well too. As soon as she was showered, and dressed Hermione gathered her books and headed to the library. While most students wouldn't be allowed in at such an early hour Madam Prince had long ago decided that Hermione was trust worthy and gave her the password to the library. As the early morning passed Hermione became engrossed in the research she was doing for Transfiguration and decided she would rather skip breakfast than deal with people.

Eventually though Hermione's peace ended as the time for her double Defense Against the Dark Arts class with the Slytherins rolled around. Sighing to herself as she put her books away and gathered her things, before heading to the DADA classroom. She was only two turns away from the classroom when she ran into a sneering Draco Malfoy.

"Well if it isn't a lonely Gryffindor mudblood," he taunted her. "You shouldn't be alone in these 'dangerous' corridors," Malfoy sneered. Then with a shrug and a cruel grin he said, "Oh well I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson," and with that he slammed Hermione into a wall and ripped her satchel off her shoulder.

"Let's take a look shall we?" he exclaimed as he reached into her bag. Pulling out her books Malfoy began to rip pages out, tear the bindings in half and sling the books down the hall.

Hermione stood silent for a moment as the surprise of Malfoy's attack settled into her and then launched at herself at him yelling, "You insufferable prick!" Pulling her hand back Hermione threw a well aimed punch that landed on the side of Malfoy's face and split his lip.

"You shouldn't have done that you mudblood bitch," he seethed and then suddenly slammed her into the wall, but this time much harder than before. She hit the wall with enough force that her head cracked against the stone and she was left dizzy with black spots dancing in front of her eyes. "I can't really harm you or that fool Dumbledore would have my head, but I'll teach you not to mess with me," Malfoy growled at her. He then grabbed her bag, dumped the rest of its contents out, and set them on fire.

"Bastard!" Hermione gasped, wishing she could yell, but not able to because of the pain in her head.

"Language, language Ms. Granger," a silky voice slithered out of the shadows, as Professor Snape stepped forward. "Let's see, I do believe such a word is worth at least 25 points from Gryffindor." He drawled as he came closer to him. "Now what is all of this?," He asked as he came closer, but stopped suddenly as he caught sight of Malfoy's face. "Mr. Malfoy what the devil happened to your face?"

"I found her on the floor and when I tried to help her the little hellcat attacked me," Malfoy lied smoothly as he glared at Hermione.

"That's not tr-" Hermione tried to protest, but Snape cut her off quickly.

"Shut your mouth girl!," Snape snapped at her. "Attacking a student is bad enough, much less trying to lie you way out of it."

"But he attacked me," she tried to defend herself as the dizziness began to ease.

"Silence yourself," Snape snapped again and then turned to Malfoy. "Go clean yourself up Mr. Malfoy and don't worry about coming to class." Then turning back to Hermione he smoothly continued, "You will have detention every Thursday night with me for the next month and another 100 points off of Gryffindor for such _animalistic_ behavior. Now clean this up and I expect to see you at class on time," and with that he started stalking off toward the DADA class.

"I told you, you'd learn a lesson bitch," Malfoy sneered as he picked up his bag and headed off for the Slytherin common room.

"Can this day get any worse," Hermione whispered to herself, as she tried to stand up straight while fighting the pain pounding in her head. By the time she managed to get to the fire that had once been her homework it had dwindled done to nothing but a glowing pile of ash. "Damn it!" she exclaimed as she realized that not only was her homework now ruined her books would take time to repair. Slowly she started collecting all the pages and pieces of her books. Little did Hermione know her day could, and would get worse. By the time she had collected all of her things and got them into her bag she -was 10 minutes late to class.

"I specifically told you not to be late Granger, so another 40 points from Gryffindor," Snape had snapped at her. While Harry and Ron looked at her with sympathy they wisely kept their mouths shut. Snape then continued on to ask for their homework essays, but of course Hermione's had been destroyed by Malfoy. When she did not turn one in Snape sneered at her and disparagingly stated, "The Gryffindor know-it-all not hand in an assignment? How i_very_/iinteresting."

Snape continued to make snide and cruel remarks to Hermione for the rest of class and at the end reminded her to be in the DADA room at 7:00 Thursday night. "And do be _prompt_ Miss Granger," Snape snapped as she walked out of the room.

The Gryffindor trio left the dungeons and headed straight for the Great Hall for lunch. As soon as they were sitting the boys wanted to know why in the world she was late and what happened to her homework. The boys seemed to care little about what Malfoy had done and were only interested in the fact that she had punched him.

"Malfoy needs to be taught a lesson. I'm glad you're the one who hit him Hermione, although the lost points and detentions do suck," Harry stated at the end of her story.

"But he hurt me, and destroyed my books and ALL of my homework for the rest of the week yet I'm the one who gets punished ," Hermione said. "Doesn't that mean anything to you two?"

"Of course it sucks Hermione, and we hate that he hurt you, but there is little we can do," Harry told her gently. "Besides you already did more than we could have."

After swallowing a giant mouthful chicken Ron added, "Don't worry about it Hermione. All you have to do is explain to the teachers that there was an accident and your homework got destroyed. Everyone knows your such a bookworm you do homework the day it's assigned, and you're the biggest teacher's pet around so no one but Snape will hesitate to let you redo it."

Hermione was hurt by Ron's words and by both boys lack of caring at the fact Malfoy had attacked her. She wanted to think that it had to do with the fact that the next quidditch match was only a week away and the boys wanted to discuss strategy, but she felt in her heart that it had to do with the fact that they cared very little about her anymore.

"Anyways, you were waaay to attached to those stupid books anyways. Now maybe you can get a life," Ron added with a laugh jerking her out of her thoughts.

Hermione spent the rest of lunch not eating, or even paying attention to what anyone was saying; instead fighting the terrible headache and bouts of dizziness that kept plaguing her. When she stood up for her next class Hermione was suddenly over taken by dizziness and collapsed back into her seat again. She told Ron and Harry to go on to class, because she wasn't feeling good and was going to visit the Hospital wing. With a promise to tell Professor McGonagall were she was they left without even a backwards glance at her.

Hermione sat still for a few minutes and then slowly got out of her seat and started towards the Hospital wing. The trip took much longer than it should have and by the time she reached the doors to the wing she was pale, sweating, and very weak. Hermione stumbled into the room and collapsed on the nearest bed she could find, as Madam Pomfrey rushed over to her.

"My dear what in the world is wrong?" Pomfrey exclaimed as she reached Hermione's bed side.

Wincing at the loudness of Madam Pomfrey's voice Hermione whispered, "I hit my head earlier and now I don't feel so good." With that information out Hermione's eyes slipped shut as she finally passed out.

Sometime later Hermione woke up still in the bed at the Hospital wing. When she asked the mediwitch what had happened Madam Pomfrey explained that she had had a concussion and then rebuked Hermione for not coming to see her immediately.

"I had DADA," Hermione said as way of explanation. Upon asking Hermione found out that she had been out for hours and that it was almost the end of dinner. She also found out that in all the time she'd been there not a single person had come to check on her. Hurt by Harry and Ron's lack of interest in her well fare Hermione had to bite her cheek and look away from the mediwitch to keep from crying.

By the time Madam Pomfrey finished checking Hermione over once again, it was past dinner and Hermione headed back to her dorm. As she got close to the door of her shared dormitory she realized the it was not fully closed and she could hear voices from within.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Parvati Patil asked a distracted Lavender Brown.

"No I haven't, but why do you care?" demanded Lavender as she laid her _Witch Weekly _magazine down.

"She wasn't in transfiguration today, or at dinner. I was just wondering where she was," Pavati explained.

"Pff who cares?" asked Lavender. "She's probably off with her nose buried in some book. It's not like she has anything better to do with herself, she has no life."

"Lavender!" exclaimed Parvati.

"Well it's true and you know it Pav," snapped Lavender. "It's not like she has many friends or anything else to do. I swear if it weren't for her _obvious _intelligence she would be worthless. What few looks the girl has are ruined by that rats nest she calls hair, she hardly has any personality, and you can't forget the fact that she can't hold a conversation for longer than 5 minutes without talking about school, books, or _'some article I just read'_," she mocked in a poor imitation of Hermione's voice, "She's ridiculous." With that pronouncement Lavender picked up her magazine and began reading again.

Hermione stood outside the door shocked at hearing such harsh words from her classmate, and wondering whether they were true. Deciding she didn't care to spend the evening in the same room as Lavender, Hermione rushed into the room to gather her things before heading to the prefects bathroom.

And now here she sat, alone in the swimming pool sized bathtub of the prefects bathroom, contemplating the sharp and shinning steel blade lying on the edge of the tub. She knew it was unhealthy and dangerous but she wasn't sure she cared anymore. Ever since she was 9 years old Hermione knew that physical pain could give her emotional control.

She had made this dangerous discovery in primary school when another child had been picking on her mercilessly. While trying not to cry Hermione had accidently broken her pencil and stabbed herself. This small injury had calmed her nerves and given her the ability to ignore the other child. From there on whenever she felt she was going to cry or get angry she would scratch, pinch, or bruise herself to gain control of her feelings.

When she was eleven, just before she got her Hogwarts letter, Hermione realized she could use a knife to self inflict an injury that would hurt for long than a scratch or bruise, thus giving her control for a longer amount of time. Ever since then Hermione would occasionally indulge in this dangerous habit when she was too stressed from school or fighting with the boys. Usually it only happened a couple times a year, but over the last few months the need to cut herself was felt nearly every day. She had fought hard against the odd urges that called her to the cold steel of the blade, and often she had managed to resist. The problem now was she wasn't sure she wanted to resist anymore.

Thinking back over the day, Hermione's emotions rose closer to the surface and she had to fight the tears threatening to spill over. Hermione gritted her teeth in an attempt to fight the awful emotions she so detested. "I will not cry!" she growled to herself in a harsh voice. "Only weak girls cry! Only silly fools let their emotions out in such a frivolous way," Hermione exclaimed in a frantic murmur. Yet even as she said it Hermione knew there was only one way to stop the tears. It was the only thing that had calmed her when her emotions got this strong.

"I've tried so hard," Hermione finally whispered to herself brokenly. "But why? Why does it matter when no one cares and no one ever will?" she asked the empty room as the first tears slipped down her face. Slowly her body started shaking as she fought the violent emotions threatening to overwhelm her, yet as Ron and Harry's uncaring attitudes and Lavender's harsh words filtered through her mind Hermione lost the battle with her emotions.

As the tears picked up the pace at which they were streaming down her face, Hermione inched closer to the edge of the tub where the cold steel was shining at her. Finally as the first sob escaped through her lips, she lifted herself out of the tub and grabbed the dangerously sharp blade. Knowing that this was a horrible decision, but no longer caring, Hermione laid the cool metal against her the skin of her hip, and pushing ever so slightly pulled it along her flesh. As the first drops of blood welled up in the wake of the blade the shaking in her body lessened. As Hermione repeated the action a second and a third time the tremors completely ended and the tears running down her face slowed. When she made a fourth deeper and longer mark on her flesh Hermione's tears all but stopped.

Finally she laid the now warm blade aside and watched as the blood dripped out of the flesh of her hip, onto the top of her thigh, and ran down the outer edge of her leg to pool on the tile of the floor. Starring at the rivulets of blood trailing across her flesh, Hermione's tears all but stopped and her breathing evened out. Reaching out and running a gentle finger over the deepest of the wounds Hermione gave a tiny smile at the heat of the blood seeping out of her.

Suddenly, without thinking, Hermione reached over and once again picked up the now cool blade, but this time not to hurt herself. Carefully she dipped the edge of the blade in the cooling pool of blood, and brought the blade slowly to her left arm. She traced the blade over her arm in the shape of a letter and then lowered the blade back to the pool of blood. Over and over Hermione repeated this macabre act until finally she had spelled out one single word… **WORTHLESS.**

Hermione sat starring at her arm in silent contemplation for a long while, until the chill from the tiles she was sitting on began to seep into her still damp skin. When she finally looked away from her arm the blood running from her hip had slowed and was beginning to thicken and congeal. Picking up her washcloth Hermione gently began to wash the blood off of her thigh and hip. The stinging pain that came with the act of cleansing the wounds made Hermione decide that she didn't want to heal the wounds with magic like she had many of the other times she had indulged in this strange addiction. She realized that she would rather allow them to heal on their own so that she would have the constant stinging pain to help keep her calm in the next few days. Realizing that this was the first step down a long and dangerous path Hermione refused to change her mind on what she wanted to do.

With that decision in mind Hermione picked up her wand and conjured a bandage large enough to cover all four wounds and a roll of muggle medical tape. She then carefully dried and covered the wounds. Eventually Hermione got dressed and prepared to leave the bathroom. Looking down at the now cooled pool of her blood, Hermione sighed and with a flick of her wand got rid of it. Finally Hermione wrapped her cold steel blade in a dry washcloth, collected the last of her things and with a whispered "Nox" left the prefects bathroom.


	2. And So It Continues

Cool Steel Chapter 2- And So It Continues

Disclaimer: Once again I do not own any of the characters or main back story. That pleasure resides solely with JK Rowling... I only own the unfortunate plot bunnies that contribute to this.

AN: Sorry it's so short. Also, I don't currently have a beta so if you would be interested please PM me.

* * *

The next morning Hermione woke up to a stinging in her hip. She smiled at the reminder of the control she had given herself last night. _It may not be permanent, but it damn well helps _she thought to herself as she slipped out of bed_. _Grabbing her bag of toiletries Hermione headed to the prefect's bathroom. Once inside she locked and warded the door, before stripping down and going to stand in front of the mirror. She slowly began to peel the bandage away and let out a hiss when it stuck to the wound. Gritting her teeth she ripped the bandage off with another sharp hiss.

The wounds looked red and angry, and began seeping blood in the places where the bandage had stuck. Hermione looked at the four marks sadly and wondered whether she should heal them. Thinking back over the day before she decided that no she needed these physical reminders to maintain her control.

With that decision made Hermione began to clean and bandage her hip with some of the supplies she kept in her toiletries bag. She then dressed in her uniform and fixed her hair into a thick French braid with a few curls framing her face. When satisfied with her hair, she headed back to Gryffindor tower to collect her books from her room. Unfortunately she ran into Lavender on the way.

"Oi! Hey Hermione," Lavender called cheerily.

"Hey"

"Listen, have you done your Arithmancy homework yet?" Lavender asked in a sweet voice.

"Yeah I finished it a few days ago. Why?" replied Hermione suspiciously.

Lavender gave her an innocent look before responding with, "Well the thing is... I haven't done mine yet, and I have big plans with Parvati over the next couple a days... So I won't have time to do it ya' know... So do you think I could copy yours?"

Hermione looked at her for a long moment before saying, "I don't think so Lavender. It's not a difficult assignment, so it shouldn't take you too long to complete."

"Yeah so? That's the bloody point isn't it. It's waste of time, so what's it matter if I'm the one to complete it or I just copy yours?" she snapped back.

"Lavender I'm sorry, but no."

"Merlin! Your such a bloody bitch! No wonder Ron doesn't want to hang out with you. You're such a stuck-up snit I doubt your own parents like being around you!"

With that proclamation Lavender stormed out of the common room, leaving Hermione to stand there in shock for a moment, before her eyes began to well with tears. _I will not cry here _Hermione thought to herself, just as she took her thumb and pressed it hard against the bandage on her hip. When the pain wasn't enough and the tears still threatened to fall she used her thumb nail to dig into the flesh until she felt one of the cuts pop open again. The stinging pain brought a sigh of relief to Hermione's lips as the tears cleared from her eyes.

* * *

The week continued on much the same as it had started. The boys continued to pay little attention to her, Malfoy persisted in being an arse, and Lavender kept making occasional snide comments about Hermione's personality and looks. However, Hermione kept the smile plastered on her face and continued to pretend nothing was wrong. If she felt overwhelmed or in fear of crying she simply pressed hard on the wounds and the burning pain would return her tenuous control.

As the wounds healed Hermione believed her ability to remain calm was strengthening and felt she would no longer need injuries to keep herself calm. That was until she received a letter from her parents at breakfast on Thursday.

_Hermione,_

_We realize the Holidays are still a ways off but your mother and I wanted to give you forewarning that we expect, no __demand__, for you to come home for the break. We will continue the discussion that you refused to listen to __**reason**__ on during the summer. Please know that we have decided that if you refuse our request we will disown you as our daughter, and will have nothing further to do with you. We only do these things out of love and concern for you_

_ Your parents. _

And that was it... an ultimatum that left her no real choice in the matter. She knew that the _logic_ her parents wished her to see was to remain home and never return to Hogwarts. _Circe and all other deities help me _she thought._ How can they say they will disown me out of __**love!**_ _They don't even seem_ _to feel remorse or regret over this decision._

With that thought Hermione felt her mask of calm begin to slip. She slowly slipped the letter into her bag, and excused herself from the table. She managed to walk until she was out of sight of the Great Hall before she took off at a run for the closest girls lavatory. As soon she was in a stall she locked it and put up a silencing spell. While gasping for breath and shaking from fighting the oncoming sobs she dug around in her bag until she latched onto her potions kits. She ripped it out and grasped desperately at the pristine knife she kept inside. She knew it to be sharp enough to cut flesh from the many times she'd nicked her fingers on it.

Quickly becoming desperate she ripped down the edge of her skirt and panties exposing the unblemished flesh of her uninjured inner hip. She then pressed the knife hard on the skin and drug it quickly across. The relief she felt was instantaneous, and a sigh of almost pleasure escaped her lips. She then moved the knife slightly lower, taking time in making this cut and watching in fascination as her skin split open under the pressure of this cool steel.

Hermione stood there for a while watching as the blood ran from the self inflicted cuts; allowing the physical pain to wash away her seemingly endless emotional pain. She then slowly roused from her stupor and decided not to bandage these cuts, instead only cleaning the blood away and pulling her panties over the still bleeding cuts. She hoped that the irritation they would cause could keep the troubling thoughts of her parents away for the remainder of the day.

Realizing that she was dangerously close to being late for Transfiguration she hurried off for another monotonous day.

And the day was indeed monotonous. It passed in a blur, with the only significant moments being when she would turn quickly and feel the cuts reopen. Where Hermione had left them bleeding the cuts had dried to her panties and every time they moved too much they would rip the cuts open with a sharp pain that would bring a gasp and a slight smile of relief to her lips.

While sitting at dinner, being ignored as usual, Harry suddenly turned to Hermione with a thoughtful look, stating "Oi don't you have detention with Snape tonight?"

"Yeah, yeah I guess I do. Thanks for reminding Harry, I had forgotten," Hermione replied with a soft smile.

"Hey what are frien-" he started before being interrupted by Ron.

"Bloody 'ell Hermione! If you've got detention tonight what am I supposed to do about my Potion's homework? You were supposed to help and it's due tomorrow! Now what do I do?"

"You could do it by yourself Ronald, or ask Harry for help."

"Yeah, but I wanted a good grade. That's what you're good for! Oi ... I could copy yours couldn't I?" he said thoughtfully.

"No Ronald you can't," Hermione stated firmly. "You had two weeks to do this assignment."

"Merlin, I'm startin' to think Lavender's right about you. You are a stuck-up bint," he snapped before turning back to his sister.

Harry quickly leaned over and whispered to Hermione, "Just ignore him 'Mione. He doesn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, sure, whatever," she replied digging her fingers into her once again bleeding hip, as Harry turned to Ginny as well. Hermione shoved her plate away and looking at her watch decided 6:37 was as good a time as any to head up to the DADA classroom.


	3. And So The Plot Thickens

Cool Steel Chapter 3- And So The Plot Thickens

Disclaimer: Once again I do not own any of the characters or main back story. That pleasure resides solely with JK Rowling... I only own the unfortunate plot bunnies that contribute to this.

* * *

Hermione reached the classroom door at 6:54, and raised her hand to knock.

"Enter," Snape's voice called immediately following her short rap on the door.

Hermione quickly walked through the door calling, "Sir," and nodding her head at him as she slid the door closed behind her.

"Aww so you do know how to be on time," he commented scathingly. When he found she had no reply Snape continued in a voice full of boredom. "Miss Granger I find myself extremely busy this evening with little time to _babysit_ during a useless and tedious detention, so this **once**and only **once**I am going to offer you a choice." He paused for a moment to glare at her before biting out, "If you breathe a word of this to another student your detention will be extended by another month and I will make sure they are the most _hideous_ detentions you have ever served. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir. Completely."

"Miss Granger you have before you two choices. First you may join Hagrid in the school greenhouses removing an infestation of Romanian mucous slugs, which are have currently reached the size of your arm, and must be removed manually due to their tendency to... shall we say _explode_ when moved by magic," he paused for effect, before continuing menacingly. "Or you can stay here and brew strengthening solution for Madam Pomfrey to replenish her stores."

He allowed her a second to think before adding, "However, you will be required to clean all the cauldrons you use by hand, and she needs at least 5 cauldrons worth of solution. This is still detention after all."

Hermione took little time in debating over cleaning the thickly viscous potion out of cauldrons over exploding slugs, then quickly decided that she simply could not handle Hagrid's exuberant self tonight. She opened her mouth and answered Snape's questioning eyes with "I'll stay here sir."

He shrugged nonchalantly, pointed towards a setup on the far side of the room that she had failed to notice before now, and headed back to his desk without another word.

Hermione walked over to the table and found 5 cauldrons and burners accompanied by enough ingredients to complete the required amount of potion. Deciding that the best way to complete this project would be to prepare all the ingredients before hand and then start the cauldrons in a timed successive manner so that she could complete a single stage on the fifth cauldron just as the next stage would need to be started on the first.

With a plan in place, she set about her tasks quickly and diligently. Unconsciously she began to hum a rather low and despondent melody to herself. For a while Snape did not notice, but as she began to add ingredients to the first cauldron and the sounds of her chopping ceased Snape raised his head to glare at her. He quickly found the sound irritating and when she failed to respond to his glare he decided to put a stop to it.

"Miss Granger," he snapped seethingly, causing Hermione to startle. "While you may enjoy that forlorn sound coming from your throat I most certainly do not. Use that know-it-all brain of yours to realize I don't need your incessant noise to remind me of you presence."

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't realize-"

"Don't be sorry you stupid girl. Just stop!"

"Yes sir," Hermione whispered as she dropped her eyes back to her task. _Does he need to be so damn hateful all the time, _she thought sadly to herself.

Hermione spent the next two hours stirring, mixing, monitoring, and adjusting the potions until all 5 cauldrons were complete. "I'm done sir," called Hermione quietly.

"Well don't just stand there silly girl. The potions won't bottle themselves, nor will the cauldrons clean themselves. You'd best get to work if you are to be done by curfew," he barked without looking up.

Hermione used magic to siphon all of the potion into the flasks he had provided in neatly packed crates beside the table. Then conjured herself a bucket of soapy water, a sponge, and a long towel before setting about the arduous task of cleaning the thick residue left behind by the potion. After 45 minutes of sweating and straining all the cauldrons where clean and Hermione turned to her brewing tools to clean them as well. She meticulously cleaned everything saving her knife for last.

Just as she was picking it up to clean, Snape slid his chair back startling her. She jerked in response dragging the knife across her other palm and slicing it open. "Damn it," she hissed in pain as she realized how deep she'd cut.

"Language Miss Granger! 50 points from Gryffindor," snapped Snape as he turned to face her. As he took notice of the blood dripping from her hand he growled out, "You stupid chit what have you done now," and proceeded to stalk towards her.

"It-its n-nothing sir," Hermione stuttered as she stared at the freely bleeding cut on her hand.

"It's obviously not nothing Miss Granger, or you wouldn't be making such a mess of my class room."

"I swear I'll be fine"

"Give me your hand," demanded Snape with a fierce glare.

Hermione slowly extended her hand towards him. Snape frowned when he realized how deep the cut actually was, and began muttering a healing spell while frowning at her hand. As soon as the skin finished knitting itself back together, Snape took a quick step back from her only to give her another withering glare.

"Miss Granger I thought even a muggle-born such as yourself would know how to handle a knife. It's a simple enough task, but obviously that ridiculous know-it-all brain of yours does not lend itself to actual intelligence or basic common sense."

Hermione simply turned her eyes downward and bit the inside of her cheek instead of responding.

"What no textbook quote to support yourself," Snape mocked. "Just get out of my classroom before you bleed on anything else," he snapped with a sneer.

Hermione grabbed her bag and potions kit before sprinting out the door, forgetting her knife on the table.

Hermione sprinted down the halls as fast as she could, heading straight for the prefects bathroom. She smiled mirthlessly as she realized how often she was coming to this bathroom. _If I keep this up I should just move in. Hell, it would be better than living with Lavender,_ she thought gloomily.

Upon reaching the room Hermione raised her usual wards, before turning on the taps for the bathtub. She choose plain scorching hot water, over the normal scented bubbles she typically preferred. As she slipped into the water thoughts of her parents, Ron and Lavender's words, and the carelessness of her actions in Snape's classroom came rushing back to her.

As the emotions overtook her, Hermione raised her wand and conjured a muggle box cutter blade. She had often found that this small, palm sized piece of steel was easy to handle and created a more intense feeling as it split open her skin. Out of nowhere however, Hermione was suddenly overtaken by a horrible sense of disgust and shame at her desperate need to harm herself. She flung the blade across the room and watched as it bounced along the floor as sobs overtook her small frame.

Hermione cried, sobbed, and screamed for what seemed like an eternity. When the tears continued to flow, and the sobs kept tearing themselves from her throat Hermione began to wonder which was more disgusting; her desire for the caress of cool steel or her weakness in controlling her emotions. Quickly deciding that these ridiculous sobs were more shameful Hermione pulled herself from the tub and walked quickly over to where the blade lay on the floor.

Grabbing the small, shiny tool she quickly drug it against the flesh of her upper thigh. The instant relief it brought allowed her to think a little clearer and she decided to return to the edge of the tub. Upon sitting down she found that this first cut was extremely shallow and the blood had already quit running. Taking her time Hermione started closer to her inner thigh and cut a slightly deeper 2 inch cut into her flesh. With this cut she thought about the pain and anger she felt at her friend's lack of caring and allowed the blood to wash the emotions away. With the next slightly deeper cut Hermione thought about her parents, and as her tears finally stopped flowing she allowed those emotions to bleed away as well.

Finally Hermione made a fourth and final cut, thinking about Snape's harsh words to her. _Has it really only been a week since I started doing this? Snape is right. I am STUPID. _Hermione thought to herself with almost no feeling at all. _I can't do anything properly. I can't even clean a knife. I'm useless. _

Hermione sat there on the edge of the tub trailing her index finger through the blood dripping down her thigh. She sat there with thoughts of her inadequacy and failings running through her mind as both her blood and bath both cooled. When the chill of the water finally made her shiver Hermione decided it was time to go, considering it was after midnight.

She quickly rose from the tub, cleaned her hip, and spelled a bandage in place over the cuts. Transfiguring her rumpled uniform to shorts and a tank top, she quickly put them on and threw her robe overtop. Checking that the coast was clear Hermione slipped from the room and headed towards Gryffindor tower.

* * *

And so the next week passed much the same as the previous. Hermione went to classes, did her homework, nagged the boys, and over all continued to play the part of know-it-all extraordinaire, with no one noticing anything amiss. She found herself seeking relief from the cool steel of her razor blade on Sunday, as well as Wednesday when the anxiety and depression became too much. Hermione however limited herself to much shallower cuts this week, deciding deep ones were too dangerous in the long run.

At her Thursday detention Snape again offered Hermione an option: either to brew an extreme amount of Headache Relief potion and hand clean the mess afterwards, or participate in some arduous task with Filch. However Snape did feel the need to add the scathing remark of, "As long as you can avoid bleeding all over the place that is," which left little doubt in her mind as to his opinion her last detention.

When Hermione cast her eyes to the ground, and gave an affirmative nod Snape simply pointed to the prepared workstation and turned towards his desks without another word. The detention continued with no noteworthy incidences until Hermione announced she was finished cleaning at 10:00. After a cursory glance at the completed stock of potions Snape dismissed her with a sharp wave towards the door.

The following afternoon found Hermione trailing after the boys towards the quidditch pitch for Gryffindor team tryouts. Hermione tried to focus on a book she'd brought along, but soon found herself distracted by Ron's abysmal performance. Loathe though she was to admit it Hermione still found herself attracted to Ron, though she was constantly ignored by him...

_And any other boy for that matter, _ she thought derisively.

She realized she felt sorry for his obvious case of nerves, when pitted against the prick McLaggen. She watched with apprehension as Ron barely stopped the ball time after time, while Mclaggen's saves were smooth and flawless. When finally Hermione couldn't stand it anymore, she quietly directed a confundus charm towards McLaggen. In the back of her mind Hermione had hoped that Ron would realize what she had done for him. Nevertheless it was obvious that while Ron found it was odd the first time it happened, he thought McLaggen was simply screwing up when it happened a second time.

_What did you expect girl? _she snapped at herself. _That he would suddenly fly over here and declare his love for you? Grow up already, you bloody idiot._

After tryouts were over and Harry had posted the results, Hermione rushed up to Ron to congratulate him, however she had barely started to say it before she was shoved out of the way by a group of giggling girls. Ron walked off flirting with them without a backwards glance towards her. When Harry walked by without even noticing her, Hermione about lost it. She turned and ran towards the edge of the forest, stumbling blinding onto a slightly overgrown path. She ran along this path for a while before collapsing against an ancient tree.

Breathing heavily Hermione pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and transfigured it into a small blade. This time she drug it quick and shallowly across her outer forearm, smiling at the now familiar sting. She then drug a second, and third similarly shallow lines beside the first. When she began breathing easier from the rush that followed, she sat on the ground debating whether she should heal the scratch or make another shorter scratch, so they would look like Crookshanks had clawed her. Deciding to make a fourth, she slid the blade along her arm before transfiguring it back into a handkerchief.

_It wouldn't due to get caught with a bleeding arm and a bloody blade now would it?_ Hermione thought to herself. _I can't keep doing this all the time. I'm bound to get caught at some point._

And so she sat there for over an hour contemplating her life and the rather addicting habit she had developed. Yet no matter how hard she tried Hermione could not think of another method that would relieve her stress and emotional pain the way cutting did.

_But running here did help didn't it? I didn't have to cut as deep to calm down... maybe I could start running? I could __**definitely **__stand to lose the weight, lard arse that I am..._

With that self-deprecating thought Hermione made her decision to start running this lonely, overgrown path everyday to lose the weight and hopefully increase her control.

* * *

The next morning Hermione rose before the sun. She dressed in a pair of leggings she rarely wore -_because they're too tight on my fat arse- _some loose athletic shorts and a hoodie. She transformed an old pair of Mary Janes into jogging shoes, before slipping out of her dorm and through the common room. The Fat Lady barely rustled in her portrait when Hermione gently pushed the door open, and slipped out without a sound. She made her way quickly through the corridors and chose to exit through a rarely used side door that came out near the rose gardens. Once outside she took a moment to breathe in the early morning air, before heading towards the overgrown path to begin her jog.

When she reached the edge of the path Hermione began a timer on her muggle watch that was set to go off 30 minutes into her run. She had already decided this would be the point where she turned around and headed back up the path. Hermione began her run just as the sky was slipping from dark purple to a lighter angry grey. She had started off fast but quickly realized she would never be able to maintain that speed, and thus slowed down to a more manageable pace. By the time her watch beeped it's 30 minute reminder Hermione was drenched in sweat, aching in pain and ready to quit.

_No! I won't quit! I deserve to be in pain. I deserve to suffer! _She thought harshly to herself. She pushed through the pain and at 45 minutes felt as though her legs were going to give out. With this new sensation she smiled to herself and began to run even faster. She hit the end of the path 4 minutes before the hour mark and collapsed on the ground gasping for air. She lay on the damp grass staring at the quickly lightening sky and gasping from the burning stitch in her side.

And as she drug her aching body from the ground, and headed back towards the castle Hermione couldn't help but smile at the burning pain engulfing her entire body.

* * *

**AN: **I typically wouldn't ask this, but I would kill for some reviews. Good or bad I don't care, but can you please let me know how I'm doing or if you like were this story is going? I would very much appreciate it :)


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